


English Pleasure

by AcreCalm



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Consensual Kink, Discipline, Dom!Jim, Dom/sub Play, Exhibitionism, F/M, Heavy BDSM, Jim you're breaking her apart, Kneeling, Leashes, Master/Pet, Molly bby this isnt good for you, Naked Female Clothed Male, POV Female Character, Rough Oral Sex, Situational Humiliation, Spanking, Sub!Molly, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, What's Wrong w/ me, Woman on Top, hmu wanna bet one of the other people there is irene eh, implied aftercare, kind of, wjdk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcreCalm/pseuds/AcreCalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> In the average English pleasure class, the horses perform as a group, exhibiting the natural gaits of the walk, trot, and canter, and may also be asked to extend the trot or to perform a hand gallop. Horses are judged on their manners, performance, quality and conformation. The horse is to give the impression of being a pleasure to ride.</em><br/>  </p><p>Jim takes Molly to a party to show his friends what a good girl she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	English Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> I had a sudden need for Jim showing off Molly as his pet and seeming totally disinterested.  
> I don't know how this happened and I blame Lucy entirely.

Jim's shoes made a smart clicking on the marble floor, and Molly could see the polished shine of them out of the corner of her eye. The floor was cold and hard, and there was a bit of a draft that had goosebumps rising on her pale skin. She felt exposed, vulnerable.  
The collar was comforting.

It wasn't her usual one. This was the one for special occasions. A rich purple that caught her eye when the leash swung between them. She'd never worn it before but to check the fit of it, and she could feel the slight variations from that of the soft leather one she sometimes wore at home.  
The feeling, however, was the same. Security, calm. Absolute trust in Jim.

Molly looked up at him when they stopped in front of one of the heavy doors that lined the halls of the great house which they had been making their way through. He was not a particularly large man, but you wouldn't know it to see how he walked. Casual like he had nothing to fear. Very likely, he didn't. Perhaps because he was the most horrible there was. She was well aware of his true identity now.  
Even so-- she was important to him. And that was intoxicating. Molly, who had never made waves, became someone noteworthy when she was with Jim. He took her to fine restaurants and the opera. Fancy parties and dinners. He came to her flat to hear her talk about her day and tell her how lovely she was. He taught her how to please him, and she did her very best to do it.

Jim didn't do her the reassurance of meeting her eye before he was opening the door without so much as a knock of warning. Molly turned her gaze forward once more, and crawled alongside his leisurely stride.  
"So sorry to be late. I hope we haven't missed all the fun."

 

As always, the dark lilt of his voice made her skin tingle. Though Molly knew he was not at _all_ sorry, because he'd spent near an hour brushing her hair before they came, despite the fact that she had done it herself. He'd come late on purpose, because Jim liked to be noticed, and he wanted her to be noticed.

Molly was not to look his friends in the eye, but there was certainly a lot to take in even with half the people in the room off limits.  
The room itself was richly furnished, and she welcomed the thick Persian rug after the marble flooring. All the chairs were high-backed and leather, and three of the walls were lined with bookcases.

Despite the interesting surroundings, Molly couldn't help but blush, to feel so many people looking at her with nothing to cover herself. She felt very amateur for doing so, and very firmly promised herself she would do better.

 

The other reason for her embarrassment were the pets.

 

Of course she'd known they would be there, else she wouldn't have been there herself. And Jim _had_ told her that there would be a lot of variety. But that did not keep her from flushing furiously, when she met the eye of the lean blonde with a ball gag forcing his mouth open being used as a footrest. Molly pressed her face into Jim's leg, self conscious and anxious. He'd assured her that everyone would be very envious of him by the end of the night, but she was beginning to doubt that. These pets went -- forgive her for saying so out of turn -- much farther than she believed she would ever be comfortable with. 

Take the broad-shouldered one with curly hair wet with sweat, shivering and whimpering as his mistress idly pressed the heel of her stiletto into his inner thigh. He was sprawled out, leaned against her chair with his legs spread. A metal ring at the base of his cock caught the light when his hips bucked, and Molly could see the plug nestled between his cheeks. He earned a stinging slap for his movement, and his head fell to his heaving chest, the whole of his body trembling.  
Goodness.

 

"I see you finally got yourself a bitch of your own, Jim."  
The man who spoke seemed to be their host; every chair subtly angled toward him. While Molly didn't look at his face, it was very hard -- er, _difficult_ \-- to miss the thick erection jutting out proudly in his lap.  
Or the two blindfolded girls mouthing on it from where they kneeled at either side of his feet, moaning out their own enjoyment in a way Molly knew Jim thought was tacky.

Jim laughed, and a chill went down her spine.  
It was the sort of way he laughed right before he looked at her with eyes that could be nothing but a killer's, lips curling up into a snarl of insane anger.

"That is the last time you will call her that, my friend."

Molly looked up at him in surprise, having expected yelling rather than the mild comment. She realized what he had said, and his demand that she be showed respect warmed her all the way down to her toes.

"Does she have a name, then?"  
Only the long pause before the man spoke again indicated any sort of understanding of Jim's reaction.

"Oh, yes," Jim looked down at her for the first time since they had arrived at the grand house, and rewarded her with a small, proud smile. "This beautiful creature is Molly, whom I am fortunate enough to call my own. Present, love."

Jim hadn't asked her to present for some time-- several months, maybe. But she remembered. Molly turned in a circle so that she was facing away from the general company and bent her elbows at the same time that she spread her knees. She knew better than to break the position, even after several moments and a few curses. Molly didn't know if she felt ashamed to have just displayed her most intimate places to complete strangers, or flattered that they were apparently impressed.  
"Very good." Jim said to her quietly, and that was her cue to turn back around. He slid into a nearby chair, and once he was seated, Molly sat back on her heels with her eyes downcast and hands behind her back.

 

Her nerves were still thrumming in her ribcage, but glancing about to see one of the other pets eyeing her collar with envy was enough to make Molly sit a little straighter. It was alright. Jim was here, and he would take care of her.

Even if she could _feel_ the greedy gaze of his friends -- lingering at where the cold had tightened her nipples into hard buds and the soft curve of her hips, to her smooth vulva, recently shaved just for this occasion -- Molly took even breaths, and butted her head up into his touch when Jim began to stroke her hair, tangling his fingers in the long curtain of it. There were a few chuckles at that; clearly being a newcomer meant you drew a lot of interest. Molly let her eyes slip close, practically beginning to purr. Loving the easy attention he was giving her.

 

Across the circle of chairs the moaning and slurps of the two pets on one man made it hard to try and settle into the situation. Jim was right. It _was_ tacky.  
Molly privately resolved to remember that, and do better whenever he gave her the opportunity to have him in her mouth.  
She didn't have to wait long.

 

Or at least, it didn't _seem_ as if it had been very long, but Molly knew she tended to lose track of time when he was petting her. The rhythm was so steady, such comforting affection...  
He stilled, and she opened her eyes, blinking.  
"Molly."

Jim snapped his fingers, and pointed to the floor in front of him. He had spread his knees, moved his hips closer to the edge of his seat. Oh. This was it.  
Not just easy commands and enduring the eyes of masters who were not hers, but performing. Pleasing him.  
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Molly said to him and crawled around to settle herself between his legs. In that time, he'd gotten his half-hard cock out of his trousers and pants and was watching her with heavy lidded eyes.

 

She loved seeing Jim like this.  
The burn of lust in his gaze being the only thing to break the overall impassiveness; still dressed with his penis loosely taken in one hand. Somehow he still managed to look dangerously dashing.

Molly knew what was expected. She licked her lips and opened her mouth. Closed her eyes as she waited. The hand still tangled in her hair tightened on the back of her head for the barest moment before he was forcing her onto him, filling her mouth completely. She tried not to, but was only able to soften how she moaned around him, eyes fluttering. Molly sucked, tried to tongue the head when he was so far into her mouth. Almost gagged for a moment before she was looking straight up at him with her lips stretched around his length and relaxing her jaw so that he could do with her what he pleased.  
What he pleased was to pull her head down at a shocking pace, giving her no time to adjust. He enforced this for a few moments before she got the rhythm herself and then he was pouring himself a drink, asking someone how they'd been.

Molly liked him in her mouth, heavy and thick. Liked feeling him grow hard and making him feel good. This was a bit too rough to enjoy, and she near choked on his cock when it hit the back of her throat. But she kept going. She was going to make him proud.

Tears had sprung from her eyes and her jaw was aching when he finally caught her cheek.  
"That's enough, love. At your leisure, now."

Which meant she could kiss him, mouth up the sides and lap over the tip.

 

Jim seemed to be having a rather nice conversation with the man next to him.

 

Molly doubled her efforts, wanting him to pay attention to her. To notice exactly how good she was doing. It was all for him, wasn't it? After growing somewhat frustrated by her failure to distract him, Jim gave her an amused look.  
"Have I been neglecting you, love?"

 

Molly knew where this was going. Drat.

 

"No, sir." She murmured, ducking her head when she removed her mouth from him.

"Come here." Jim patted one of his knees, and Molly gave him a meekly apologetic look before crawling onto his lap with some reluctance, curling over in a sort of fetal position.  
Jim traced down her spine, drew nonsensical patterns on her back. Stroked over her arse.  
And then he spanked her.

Knowing it was coming did not do anything to keep Molly from crying out and tensing at the blow. Jim tutted, smoothed his hand where he had just struck her, where the skin was already growing warm, she knew.  
He hit her again, same place. Molly yelped, and pressed her face into his torso.  
"That's better," Jim said when she didn't flinch, and despite her pains Molly almost smiled to know she had pleased him.

Losing track of time because of him petting her hair was nothing compared to how she drifted away from herself when he spanked her.  
It took near all of her willpower not to flinch or move away, and the rest of it was caught up in how her skin began to burn under his hand, stinging and tender. When the next blow didn't come, Molly whimpered and was somewhat startled at how absolutely pitiful she sounded.

Jim was speaking, and she tried to make sense of the words-- but he was not speaking to her. He'd carried on his conversation as he hit her, and now his fingers were teasing at her folds without pausing in his friendly chatting at all.  
Molly keened, and pushed back. This was her reward for having been good through the spanking, and she wanted more. She hated how wet and aching for it she got because of a spanking, but it was just the facts.  
She was seeking out more stimulation, trying to urge him on-- and his fingers were gone.

Molly was trying to look over her shoulder when he hit her again, and she had no hope of containing the broken sound she made. Instead, she whined, pained and pleading.

The whine spread out into a soft moan when his fingers found her again, curling and twisting just so. She wouldn't come to a climax like this, but he certainly was teasing her. Jim was good at teasing her. He knew all of her most sensitive places, the exact ways she liked to be touched. He was almost there, just up a little. If she wriggled her hips, maybe--

There was no pause this time, between him fingering her and him bringing a hand down sharply onto her swollen arse. Molly nearly screamed. Her shuddering breaths were more like sobs, at this point. She tried to nestle further against him, find that safe place.  
She could hear crying behind her, and knew that one of the pets was being punished for something. Soft grunts came from a slightly different direction, coupled with sounds of pleasure strangely muffled and distorted -- " _the ball gag,_ " Molly thought -- and the slap of skin. 

And above all of it, voices mingling in companionable chatter. There was no collar, no whip or command that would put the submissive partner in their place more effectively than the disinterest of their master or mistress. Molly's mind was completely swallowed up by the pleasure and the pain, and yet Jim could drink and joke and laugh, even as he had her writhing under his expert touch. A more telling reason for why she was the pet and he the master she couldn't think of.

She came at his pleasure, at the offhanded command, "Come.", directed to her after he finished a comment to one of his friends. Molly had learned how to ride the edge of orgasm so that she could tip over it the moment he directed her to do so, rather than just hoping that the rich sound of his voice would force her to her climax.

When he finally pulled her back to his chest with her legs straddling his lap, Molly couldn't hold herself upright and sank down with liquid muscles.  
Right onto his cock.

 

She did cry out, then, almost in pain at the unexpected fulfillment of the ache that had settled deep in her loins some time ago.  
Jim pulled her back to his chest and let her head fall to his shoulder, brushing his hands up and down her arms in a brisk sort of comfort. Molly whimpered. So full, so good, so complete. Jim was so good, to teach her these things. To teach her how good she could feel, and help her learn to embrace it.  
Thighs shaking, Molly lifted herself up on his length and sank back down, gasping for breath. Her reply was belated when he spoke, not expecting him to speak to her and too far gone to pay much attention anyways. Slowly her mind pieced the words together.

"Does that feel good, pet?"

Molly let out a sob, because she would never have the words to explain how good it was to feel important, to be his.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He would touch her hip in warning when she tried to go faster, making her fuck herself on his cock in the slowest possible way. Molly whined, wanting to feel him spill inside of her and know without a doubt that she had caused it. There was a jerk on her collar and her airway tightened for a moment. What she wanted didn't matter. Jim did not give her what she wanted.  
He gave her what she needed.

Molly forced herself to slow, focusing only on not collapsing completely onto his lap and listening to the scattered comments about the hardness of her nipples, the flush of her cheeks and the way she stretched around Jim's prick. And oh, she was mortified to hear such things be said about _her_. But this was what Jim wanted, and it did, in all honesty, feel absolutely lovely. The slow slide of him filling her, the gentle friction and his length throbbing in a way that about made her mouth water.  
Jim always knew what she needed.

 

He was silent when he spilled his seed inside of her, stopping mid-sentence and holding tight to her shoulder to keep her from continuing to ride him. Molly moaned, always surprised at how it felt to be filled still further by him, and fell back against his chest. Jim's arms wound around her, and he stroked her stomach until her muscles stopped trembling. One of his hands crept between her legs, and he pressed hard on the hard nub of her clit. Molly didn't know his lips were at her ear until she felt his breath, and he whispered into it.  
" _Come_."

 

She did.

 

 

They didn't stay much longer after that, and she crawled to the door on shaking limbs while Jim bid farewells over his shoulder. She could feel his release trickling down her thigh, and knew the rest of them could see it.  
There was no doubt who she belonged to.

 

After spending the car ride lying with her head in his lap, Molly climbed the stairs up to his flat on her hands and knees with some difficulty, and was beyond grateful to be able to sit back on her heels in the bedroom. Jim studied her for several minutes in silence while Molly fretted. Perhaps he was ashamed of her. Had she disappointed him?

Jim crouched in front of her and undid the collar. The air was cool against where it had been, her skin slightly damp. Molly closed her eyes and took a deep breath without the slight restriction to her throat. She opened them when Jim settled his suit coat jacket around her shoulders. Molly ducked her head, feeling shy and withdrawn under his gaze and pulled the sides of his jacket together.

Jim tipped her head up with two fingers and kissed her as dark and sweet as fitted a society serial killer.  
"You've made me very proud, Molly Hooper." He murmered into her mouth.

 

When Molly pitched forward to kiss him once more, she could feel Jim smirking against her lips just before he pulled her into his lap.


End file.
